


Deal

by grandexodus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Severus Snape - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, Harry Potter Fic, Mentor Severus Snape, Original Characters - Freeform, Severus Snape - Freeform, Violence, blood/gore, cursing, severus snape fic, severus x reader, snapedom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:55:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21868615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grandexodus/pseuds/grandexodus
Summary: Darcy Invidia comes from a long line of dark witches.  While her parents forbid her from dabbling in the craft, as soon as she moves out of their house she gets involved.  Within a week of living in her own place with her own rules, she manages to get herself into a situation no witch wants to be in.  Her parents refuse to help her out as they expected her to uphold her promise to never get into dark magic, so a proposition appears in the form of a letter from Hogwarts.  Which relationships can be trusted, and which ones are meant to lure her in deeper?  Will agreeing to this proposition aid Darcy in breaking her cycle of bad luck?  Can Darcy come out alive, or will the challenges she has to face weaken her until she can no longer fight for herself?
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy Invidia is a 15-year-old who was born into a family of dark witches, but her parents forbid her from dabbling in witchcraft. One night she takes it upon herself to play around with her father’s ouija board, and she gets herself into the beginning of a drawn-out mistake.
> 
> Length: 1,500 words  
> Rating: T  
> Warnings: Cursing

Dark hair, emerald eyes, and ivory skin. Three things Darcy Invidia shared with the long line of dark witches she came from. Based out of Leeds, her family built a bad reputation for themselves. With a knack for hexing, jinxing, and conjuring all things dark and mysterious, the Invidia’s have been not only shunned but feared.

While Darcy’s parents still practiced black magic, they had made it clear to her that she was to never take part in the art. It was simply far too dangerous.

Darcy was very much the kind of girl that respected her parents and their rules, but at the age of fifteen, she couldn’t help but be overcome with curiosity toward witchcraft. Everything about it intrigued her. The plants and potions. The spells and demons. Every last bit of witchcraft held her interest.

Her father had left his ouija board on the kitchen table one night. Darcy saw that as the perfect opportunity to get involved in the craft. After her parents had gone to bed, she crept out of her room and tiptoed to the kitchen. She sat in one of the wooden chairs at the table that was placed in the center of the room she stared at the spirit board. She had a vague idea of how to use it, but she didn’t have nearly enough knowledge on how to use it correctly. Though she knew she shouldn’t. Her thoughts raced to decide on whether or not to experiment with the board.

Darcy’s hands found themselves impulsively finding the planchette and moving it in a circle around the board. One, two, three laps later the planchette was rested in the middle of it.

“Are there any spirits here?” A whisper escaped her lips. Barely audible, she was careful to speak in a hushed tone so that she wouldn’t wake her parents.

The planchette began to move slowly at first, but it quickly became more aggressive. Darcy’s hands were neither guided up toward the “yes” or “no”, nor did they float across letters that spelled out a word. Instead, they repeatedly moved in a figure-eight motion.

“What do you think you’re doing?” A low voice broke Darcy’s infatuation with the action taking place at her fingertips. She jumped at the sound of her father. Her hands involuntarily removed themselves from the planchette, and it collided with the refrigerator after flying across the kitchen. “Get your shoes on.” He demanded. Darcy did as she was told and waited by the front door for her father.

Odin was his name. He had a talent for conjuring dark spirits, but forbid his daughter from doing so. Despite his constant explanations as to why taking part in such a practice was dangerous, here was his daughter using his ouija board.

“Are you out of your mind?” His voice broke the silence once again. He joined her at the entrance with the board, planchette, and holy water in hand. “Out.” He demanded.

“Where are we going?” Darcy asked in a hushed tone. Her father was silent as he rushed her out of the front door. They walked in silence for what felt like an eternity. “Where are we going?” Darcy asked again, more demanding this time.

“To dispose of the board.” Her father sighed, frustration lacing his breath. “Why did you do it?” Before she could answer he spoke again, “After all these years of your mother and I having told you not to get involved not just with witchcraft, but the dark side of it. Do you even know what was happening back there?” His voice was low and hushed, but rage saturated each word.

“I was communicating with,” Darcy paused before continuing, “something.”

Her father stopped in his tracks to turn and face his daughter. His glare bored into her emerald eyes. “Do you know what that something happened to be?” His jaw clenched as soon as the words escaped his mouth. A bulging vein was in his neck was visible despite the darkness. Darcy was silent in return. Her father lowered his voice before uttering the words, “It was a demon, Darcy.”

She opened her mouth about to say something but quickly closed it when she realized her part of the conversation was futile. Instead of asking him any further questions, she followed her father in silence. Eventually, they came to a halt in front of a cemetery. Her father pushed the iron gate open and rushed to the darkest corner of the cemetery. Her father’s six-foot-something stature was well ahead of her five-foot one. Darcy quickened her pace to catch up, quickly becoming short of breath. Once she took the place by his side, her father forced the ouija board into her hands.

“Dig a hole in the ground at least a foot deep.” His low voice seemed amplified in the dead of night.

“With what? We don’t have a shovel.” Her brow furrowed, and though the question escaped her mouth Darcy already knew the answer that was coming.

“Your hands. You wanted to do some of the darkest, dirtiest work you can in the magic world, so you can do the dirty tasks that come along with righting your wrongs.” Her father growled through clenched teeth. With a frustrated sigh and the roll of her eyes, Darcy got onto the damp, winter ground and began to dig the hole with her bare hands.

“Break that into seven pieces.” Her father demanded once the hole was sufficient in size. His gaze never left Darcy’s dark figure as she carefully broke the thin wood into seven pieces. “Now sprinkle some of this on to all the pieces. Gently put them in the hole, and then pack the dirt as tight as you can when you bury it.” Darcy took the bottle of holy water and followed the instructions her father had given. Once finished, they began the trek back home. The walk seemed to be much shorter on the return trip.

Upon their arrival, the house was dark and silent. Darcy didn’t bother to turn on any lights as she attempted to beeline to the bathroom so that she could wash the mud from her hands.

“Just where the hell have you two been?” A sharp voice erupted from the pitch-black house. The voice belonged to Lilith, Darcy’s mother.

“Darcy, would you care to explain?” Though it was worded as a question it was a clear demand from her father.

“I’d love to.” Darcy mustered through clenched teeth as her father turned on the light to the living room. Her mother was sitting in one of the crimson, velveteen armchairs that occupied the space.

“Please, enlighten me, dear.” Her mother’s tone was tense, and her glare held Darcy’s gaze.

“I used dad’s ouija board and the planchette started moving in a figure-eight, whatever that means, and-”

“I’m sorry? ‘Whatever that means?’” Her mother raised a brow. “Are you unaware of the situation you were in? Darcy, an evil spirit just communicated with you. That’s what the figure-eight means.” Her mother released a sharp sigh. “How come after all these years of us telling you not to get involved in the practice, especially the dark parts of it, you did it anyway?” Darcy went to speak, but all she could get out was a small croak before her mother continued. “I don’t know what exactly you managed to communicate with, but I hope you realize that could have ended so much worse if you hadn’t closed the board.”

“She didn’t close the board, Lilith.” Her father clarified.

“Do you have any idea what you have managed to do? Are you completely out of your mind?” Her mother’s voice steadily rose with each word that flew past her lips.

Darcy glared at her mother. She had inherited her father’s cold glare which was useful in most situations. However, this cold glare stood to be insignificant when used on any of her family.

“Darcy Enya Invidia.” Her mother snapped due to the glare she was receiving.

“I’ve already heard all this from dad!” Darcy exploded. “I get it! I made a mistake, I fucked up!” Her arms flew up as a form of surrender. She was aware of the mistake she made, but what more could be done other than disposing of the board. “What do you want me to do about it? I can’t turn back time!” Her arms fell back to her sides, and she stood still waiting for her mother’s retaliation.

Her mother’s facial expression shifted from annoyed to thoughtful. She let out a sigh before she spoke, her voice much softer than before, “Just promise us you won’t dabble in the craft ever again. We just want you to be safe.”

“Fine,” Darcy said before turning and storming away.

While the agreement didn’t sound genuine, Darcy didn’t associate herself with the craft again. At least not while she was living under the roof her parents provided her.


	2. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Length: 2161  
> Rating: T  
> Warnings: cursing, cutting (not related to self-harm), blood.
> 
> Summary: Darcy has moved out of her parent’s house at the ripe age of 18. Now that she’s no longer under her parent’s roof or rule she’s determined to set things straight with the entity that had attached itself to her when she was 15. In the midst of doing so, Darcy makes a rash decision that will either hurt or help her situation.

Since the age of 15, Darcy had experienced some strange happenings within her parent’s house. The most common occurrence is that her belongings would move around by themselves. While it was a known fact that her parents continued to work with the dark craft, the strange encounters were only taking place with Darcy. Her parents were well aware of the experiences she was having. However, they refused to help her out of the sticky situation. She had brought it on herself after all. She knew better than to mess with her father’s Ouija board, yet here she was with some spirit attached to her.

Though unsettling at first, Darcy quickly became accustomed to the odd occurrences to the point where they no longer bothered her. Becoming comfortable with the entity around her was her only option as she had promised not to dabble in witchcraft under her parent’s house. She held that promise until August 21, 1983. That was the day that marked Darcy’s 18th birthday as well as the day she moved out of her parent’s house. She now resided in a one-bedroom flat in the heart of London.

Upon her move, Darcy purchased her own Ouija board for the sole purpose of ending the strange experiences she had been having for the past three years. While she had grown accustomed to the chaos, she had also grown quite sick of it. Darcy was determined to put an end to the nonsense that had consumed her life.

There was no doubt that what had attached itself to Darcy when she was fifteen was still lurking around. During her move multiple items moved around by themselves, large moving boxes slid around the room before crashing into the walls, and she had heard her name uttered in the vacancy of her flat a multitude of times. The actions weren’t new for Darcy to be encountering, but they certainly had gotten bolder. Back at her parent’s house, the experiences were more subtle. Before moving out small items would move on their own, but larger items certainly did not just slide around the room like they were now.

With the increase in just how much she was experiencing after the move, Darcy was left wondering if what was messing with her was the same spirit from her younger teen years. Perhaps it was a different entity who had latched on to her. However, there was the chance that it was the same spirit from her parent’s house and it now felt more comfortable out of the eldest Invidia’s home. Darcy only knew of one sure-fire way to find out.

The Ouija board that she stored under her bed (although no one would find out as she lived alone) was now lying on the coffee table in the living area. Darcy hesitated for a moment before placing the planchette on the board. What if this only made matters worse? Surely not as she just wanted to ask one simple question. She sat there deliberating with herself for a moment. Eventually, she concluded that things couldn’t get worse. If the situation were going to worsen it surely would have happened by now.

Darcy set the planchette in the middle of the board. She then moved the planchette in a circle around the perimeter of the board three times before letting it rest in the middle. “Are there any spirits here?” The age-old question was asked even though she already knew the answer. In a matter of seconds, the planchette jerked itself to the top left corner where it settled on yes. The corner of Darcy’s mouth flicked upward for a split second before falling back to its resting position. It was nice to be getting clear answers as opposed to a repeated figure-eight like the time before. As she prepared to ask her next question the planchette began to violently move in a figure-eight motion one, two, three times, and it just kept going. It was wishful thinking for Darcy to assume this would go according to plan.

“Are you the same,” Darcy paused as she pondered the correct term, “entity from-” she was stopped mid-sentence as the planchette nearly flung itself to the top left corner to settle on no. The planchette then returned to the figure-eight motion.

“Okay, well, what do I have to do to put all this to an end?” The planchette remained in the figure-eight motion. A frustrated sigh came from Darcy, “What do I have to do to put this to an end?” She spoke louder this time. However, the planchette remained in motion. “What do you want?” At this point, Darcy was practically shouting. The planchette came to an abrupt halt, and Darcy’s brow furrowed at the sight. Panic began to swell in her chest as the anticipation of what was to come became apparent.

The planchette began to move slowly, barely inching across the board before finally reaching D, next it rested on E, then A, and finally came to a stop on L.

“A deal?” Darcy became aware that the scene before her was unfolding to be rather dangerous. “What kind of deal?” She needed the clarification. The planchette was set into motion, but it moved much quicker than the time before. It swiftly moved across the letters, and Darcy muttered them aloud when it landed on one. “B-L-O-O-D.” The planchette settled over the last letter.

Darcy huffed, “I’m not making a blood deal with a demon. I might be new to all this, but I’m not an absolute dunderhead.” She decided that she would rather deal with the goings-on of the entity than make a life-threatening deal with it. She knew enough about dark magic that making a deal with a demon is by far the worst thing one could do. Darcy went to close the board. As she tried to move the planchette it stayed put. She pushed with more force, but it still refused to move from its spot hovering over the letter D. “I’m not making a deal with you.” Her word was firm. She sounded quite like her father at that moment.

While Darcy’s mind was made up about this proposition for a blood deal, this entity had other plans. The planchette suddenly removed itself from its place on the alphabet and jolted to the upper right corner to stop on No.

“I’m not making a deal with you!” Darcy shouted. She attempted to close the board but to no avail as the piece refused to move once again. This ordeal continued for upwards of ten minutes.

In a last-ditch effort to close the godforsaken board Darcy settled into a calm rage before she uttered, “Fine. I’ll make the goddamn deal. Where do you want the blood?” A low, hardly audible growl emitted and the board vibrated before the planchette began to move.

B-O-A-R-D

“On the board,” Darcy confirmed. A sigh flew past her lips, “Can I close the board while I get a knife?” Though her safety had been launched out the window minutes ago, she still wanted to take every precaution she possibly could. The planchette jerked upward and landed on No once again. She was becoming aware that any attempt to do this safely was quickly becoming futile. Without a word she stood from the couch and meandered to the kitchen. She was reluctant as she knew her situation would only worsen once she made the deal. However, she was unable to close the board. Blood deal or not, the entity was out and fully capable of fucking with Darcy where ever she may be.

She realized that while her thoughts were racing she had been staring at her set of knives that sat on the counter. Without hesitation, she pulled the largest knife from the set and hurried back to the living area. As she entered the room she noticed the planchette had gone back to moving in its figure-eight motion.

Darcy’s chest tightened as she sat in front of the board. She didn’t have to do this. Surely there was a way out as she hadn’t made the deal yet. Her father would know how to get her out of this. It would be a cold day in Hell before Darcy admitted to her dad that she got caught in the middle of a blood deal with a demon. The option of calling her parents was well out of the question. Unfortunately, she didn’t know anyone else in the dark magic community. To put it simply, her luck had run out.

Darcy took a deep breath as she placed the blade to the inside of her left hand. The metal was cool, almost soothing against her clammy palm. She held it there, the blade was firm against her skin not yet penetrating it. She tried to come up with more options to get out of the situation at hand, but as her thoughts spun around nothing came to mind. Finally, she realized there was no other option. Darcy inhaled sharply as a stinging sensation was now present in the palm of her hand, and the warmth of blood soon followed. It felt as though her entire body was tingling. Whether that was from the pain or the panic she wasn’t too sure.

“On with it!” A voice erupted from the direction of the board. It was raspy and high pitched. However, it wasn’t any less unsettling than the low growl Darcy had heard earlier.

Without hesitation, Darcy held her lacerated hand above the board, and she made a fist and squeezed so that the blood would drip onto the board. It fell over the word ‘goodbye.’ A sizzling sound came from the board. Darcy watched as the scene unraveled before her eyes. Her blood, once crimson, was now a bubbling black. In a panic, Darcy grabbed the planchette and attempted to slide it over ‘goodbye’ to close the board. However, in her attempt, the planchette stuck to the black stain that now symbolized the blood deal she had made. She was able to remove the planchette from the board, and she could slide it around the area where her blood hadn’t stained. It just wouldn’t glide over ‘goodbye.’

“Bloody useless,” Darcy muttered as gathered the board and planchette. She then returned them to their home under her bed. After returning the items to the place in which they belonged she took the time to wash up and bandage her hand.

The small bathroom in her apartment was barren and rather depressing. Beige walls, white countertops, a toilet, and a small shower. The only thing that stood out in the vanilla room was the small aloe plant sitting on the counter. Once the cut was washed out, Darcy snapped off a piece of aloe and applied its contents to the cut that was sure to leave a scar. With a lack of first aid supplies, Darcy had to makeshift a bandage out of toilet paper and some packing tape she had lying around.

“This will have to do.” She mumbled to herself as she examined her bandaged hand. For the most part, the bleeding had stopped, but there were still a few places that hadn’t completely clotted. A few spots of blood were peeking through the bandage. Darcy shifted her gaze from her hand to her reflection. “What the hell have I gotten myself into?” She shook her head before returning to her room.

Contrary to the bathroom, Darcy’s room was full of life. There were bookshelves chock full of books, plants were lining the window sill, she now had a small altar set up. The altar had amethyst, rose quartz, and selenite. A brand new deck of tarot cards sat right in the middle of the altar. Her walls were littered with framed prints of works from Van Gogh, Picasso, and Monet. Bundles of lavender were hung from the ceiling with yarn and thumbtacks. Sitting on the bedside table was a simple, black desk lamp. A stack of notebooks as well as a few fountain pens also littered the table.

Having decided to call it a night, Darcy changed into her sleeping gown and crawled into bed. With the bedside lamp still on, she retrieved a black, leather-bound journal along with a pen. She sat up in bed writing about the events that had unfolded throughout the day. The further along into the details she got, the sloppier her usually neat cursive became. Though her entry wasn’t finished, her eyelids were becoming heavy. She set her stationary to the side before clicking the lamp off. While she cozied up within her blankets, she let the smell of lavender lull her to sleep.

Just as Darcy was nearing the edge of slumber the same high, raspy voice from before sounded, “You’re mine.” Once on the brink of slumber, Darcy’s eyes shot open. She was now wide awake and well aware that she was in for a sleepless night.


	3. Incantations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 2,566
> 
> Rating: T
> 
> Warnings: Cursing
> 
> Summary: Darcy becomes desperate to rid the evil spirit from her home. However, hold habits of ridding demons don’t necessarily work this time around. Darcy finally swallows her pride and calls upon help from a Catholic priest. With full confidence that the priest will put an end to the negative energy, she invites St. Marie Louis into her home with open arms.

The first streaks of morning light peeked through the cracks of the blinds. Pillows and blankets were strewn across the room. The entity taunting Darcy thought it would be a great idea to continuously interrupt her slumber by removing articles of bedding and tossing them about. After coming to terms with the fact that she would not be catching up on any sleep, Darcy took it upon herself to find a solution to her demon problem. 

To rid the grogginess that was fogging up her brain, Darcy brewed herself some coffee. The almost black liquid was made in a lavender mug. Two spoons of sugar and a splash of milk. One, two, three stirs counter-clockwise and the coffee was to the young witch’s desired taste. As she indulged in the semi-sweet beverage, she paced around her flat in hopes of racking her sleep-deprived brain of a way to break the deal and rid the demon from her home. No matter how long and hard she pondered, only one possible solution came to mind: dispose of the board. 

With a surge of sudden optimism, Darcy abandoned the half-empty cup of joe and beelined to her room. While her idea was clear, her head was suddenly swarming with thoughts. What if disposing of the board didn’t work? It hadn’t technically worked the first time? The ounce of optimism she had was quickly fading. She traded her sleeping gown for a Ramones shirt, jeans, and chucks. All that was left was to gather the proper items and get to a cemetery. Locating the Ouija board wasn’t at all difficult, but she needed holy water if she was going to do this the right way. She definitely had some. The only problem was remembering where she had stored it. Holy water wasn’t something Darcy found herself using that often. In fact, the only time she had ever used it was when she was fifteen. She had practically torn her flat apart before finding the holy water at the top of her closet. 

Greenbriar Cemetery was located a short ten minutes away from Darcy’s flat. Disposing of the spirit board seemed more vital now than it did when she was fifteen. Perhaps it was because she was now fully aware of the danger she had put herself in. 

Having walked to the cemetery, Darcy followed the same steps she did with her father when she was fifteen. The spirit board was broken into seven pieces, sprinkled with holy water, and buried under a tree at the back of the cemetery. Darcy was sure to pack down the dirt as best she could manage in hopes that her efforts to rid the burden of being haunted.

Darcy stood up from her position on the ground. She wiped her dirt-covered palms on her jeans and let out a sigh of relief. She had full confidence that burying the Ouija board would rid the demon from her home. Unfortunately, this confidence was short-lived. 

Back at her flat, Darcy stopped dead in her tracks at the sight laid out before her. On the coffee table in the living area was none other than the Ouija board she had just buried. The board was fully intact, and the planchette was lying on top of the black stain. Curiosity overcame the young witch, and she soon found herself planted on the couch in front of the board. 

“What the hell?” She whispered to herself as she reached out to take hold of the planchette. As soon as her fingertips touched the piece, it began to move violently. 

D-E-A-L

“I understand that I made a deal, but quite frankly I’m over it,” Darcy replied.

T-O-O B-A-D

Darcy removed her hands from the planchette, and she closed the board. Though, at this point, she knew it was useless to close the board. The spirit she was dealing with was far too powerful to be withheld. She quickly came to the conclusion that she wouldn’t be able to expel this spirit on her own. 

Without hesitation, she returned to the book that she found would offer the most insight, Conjure and Expel: A Witch’s Guide to Summoning Safely. After some extensive reading, the only option became apparent. Darcy needed to find a Catholic priest as soon as she possibly could. Though Darcy had lived in the city for a few months at this point, she still wasn’t very familiar with the area. She only knew of one cathedral, Westbrooke Cathedral. 

Having found the cathedral’s number in a phone book, Darcy rang them. A woman answered on the third ring.

“Hello, St. Marie speaking.” The woman had a higher-pitched, yet soothing voice. 

“Hello, my name is Darcy Invidia, I’m calling to see if anyone at your church knows how to expel an evil spirit from one’s home?” 

“I am willing to stop by the home in question and determine the exorcism would be doable. However, I can’t promise that the spirit will be expelled permanently or at all for that manner. Are you still interested?” St. Marie said, her tone changing from sweet to very serious.

“Yes.” 

“Very well. When would you like me to pay a visit?” St. Marie asked.

“Would you be able to come over today?” Darcy asked.

“I’m going to assume you need assistance as soon as possible, yes?” The woman asked.

“Yes.” 

“I can be there at five this evening. Do tell me your address.” The woman prompted Darcy to share her home information.

“29 Brier Hill View here in Leeds. I’m in flat number 22 on the second floor. Thank you very much, St. Marie.” 

“My pleasure. I’ll see you at five, Darcy.” With that, the call ended. This left Darcy with an hour to kill before her company arrived. With this hour, Darcy decided she would try a last-ditch attempt to rid the entity from her home. 

The young witch opened the front door and all of the windows in her flat before lighting a bundle of sage. As she smudged her small home she repeatedly whispered an intention, “Sacred and holy ones, please clear this place of stagnant and negative energy.” She began her smudging at the front door and worked her way to the room farthest from the entrance. When she reached the final room, her bedroom, she began to repeat her intention louder. 

“Sacred and holy ones, please clear this place of-” Darcy was cut off by the windows slamming shut, and all doors and drawers in her room flying open. She attempted to continue, “Sacred and holy ones, please,” but she was cut off once again. This time a potted plant flew from the bookshelf and right next to her head before hitting the wall and shattering. 

Five o’clock could not come around fast enough.

What felt like ages later, there was a light knock at Darcy’s front door. She practically leaped from the couch to answer it. Upon opening the door she saw a plump, older lady, most likely in her sixties. Her hair was curly and bright white, and she was wearing standard clerical clothing. The only thing the woman had on her person was a brown, leather-bound Bible that appeared to have been well-used. From the looks of it, it appeared that this woman had owned this Bible as long as she had been alive.

“You must be Darcy Invidia?” The higher-pitched, soft voice sounded almost exactly as it did over the phone.

“St. Marie, yes?” she said in turn. The woman merely nodded. “Come in.” Darcy stepped to the side as she invited in the catholic priest. Shutting the door behind her, Darcy led St. Marie to the living room. The two women sat on the couch in front of the coffee table that held the Ouija board. 

“During our phone call earlier, you stated that this evil spirit was a result of your use of an Ouija board, and I am assuming that this is the board you used?” The soft voice of the priest changed to stern and serious as though a switch had been flipped.

“Yes, ma’am,” Darcy replied.

“Do tell me what this black mark is.” As St. Marie prompted a reply she reached into the pocket of her jacket and retrieved a wooden cross that seemed to fit perfectly in her hand.

“I was communicating with the spirit. I thought I would be able to get rid of it on my own, but I wasn’t quite sure how. While using the board the entity said that if I made a blood deal it would leave me alone. I wasn’t going to at first, but I wound up doing so. That black mark is where my blood fell onto the board.” Darcy spoke quickly. 

“Very well. Are you ready to begin?” St. Marie opened her Bible, holding it in her right hand while the wooden cross was clutched in her left. Darcy nodded in response to the question. “I would like you to open the board and use it as you would normally.” The woman instructed.

Darcy placed her hands on the planchette and circled the board one, two, three times clockwise before asking, “Are there any spirits here?” The piece jerked the girl’s hands up to ‘yes.’ 

“Please take my hand, Ms. Invidia.” 

“With all due respect St. Marie, this is a powerful spirit, and I don’t think it would be in our best interest for me to remove a hand from the planchette,” Darcy stated, halfway expecting the priest to have it her way or no way. However, that wasn’t the case at all as St. Marie, as Darcy found, was accommodating to the situation.

“I understand. That’s quite alright, we will make do. Do your best to keep your hands on the piece as I continue.” Darcy pushed down harder on the planchette to ensure it wouldn’t go flying across the room. St. Marie looked down at her Bible and began to recite an incantation. 

“Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos, Regna terrae, cantata Dea psallite Aradia. caeli Deus, Deus terrae…” Darcy recognized it as Latin. While this wasn’t the process the young witch was expecting, it definitely seemed to upset the entity that was residing in her home. The planchette didn’t move from its place hovering above ‘yes.’ Instead, it began to vibrate rapidly. 

“Humiliter majestati gloriae tuae supplicamus Ut ab omni infernalium spirituum potestate…” As St. Marie continued the planchette stopped vibrating, and it began to slowly move in a familiar figure-eight motion. The movement was almost sluggish as there seemed to be little momentum behind the movement. 

“Laqueo, and deceptione nequitia…” The planchette gained such a speed that Darcy was beginning to struggle to keep her hands in place. As the piece sped up, St. Marie’s voice steadily grew louder. “ Exorcizamus you Omnis immundus spiritus Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio…” With that, all of the lights in the department flickered for a moment. The sight caused St. Marie to stop talking mid-sentence. It was clear she had never had such an experience before. Before either of them could begin to comprehend what was happening, the planchette made one swift move to the black stain at the bottom of the board. 

“Close the board, Darcy!” St. Marie practically shouted the demand. 

Darcy attempted to push the planchette so that she could do as she was told, but it wouldn’t budge. “I can’t close it, it’s stuck.” She lifted her hands from the board and the lights stopped flickering immediately.

St. Marie slammed her Bible shut and stood up, “Darcy, I am afraid this spirit is far outside of my realm of expertise. I’m unable to help you, but best of luck.” With that, St. Marie found her way out of the haunted home. Darcy was left sitting on her couch at a loss for words.

She sat in silence without moving a muscle for a few moments before placing her elbows on her knees and pressing the palms of hands onto her eyes. After a few deep breaths, Darcy looked up and saw the planchette moving between two letters repeatedly.

H-A-H-A-H-A-H-A

“Oh, come off it!” She snapped.

Darcy could only think of one other possible solution to this problem. She had to contact the darkest witch she knew, her father. With an exasperated sigh, she swallowed her pride and rang her father. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello, dear. How have you been settling in?” A familiar deep voice echoed through the phone. 

“I’m nearly there. Hey, I’ve got a silly hypothetical question.” Darcy was eager to get straight to the point so that the conversation could be over.

“Okay.” Odin’s response came out as more of a question. It was clear he was apprehensive about the conversation to come. 

“Let’s say I have a friend who has been dabbling in witchcraft, and she stupidly made a deal with an entity.” 

“Darcy.” She was cut off before she could continue to set the scene. “I wasn’t born yesterday, this isn’t a hypothetical situation. Did you summon a demon and proceed to make a deal with it?” While he was primarily disappointed, there was a tone of rage laced beneath his words. Darcy was silent.

There was a sigh from the other end of the line, “Was it a blood deal?” Again, Darcy was silent. “God dammit, Darcy! I would have thought you would have learned your lesson by now. Did you not remember what happened the first time you used an Ouija board? Had you forgotten just how awful it was for you when the first one attached itself to you, and know you’ve gone and made a bloody deal? What were you thinking?” Odin’s voice was raised, but he wasn’t yelling by any means. He wanted his daughter to be safe, and that safety had been compromised. 

“Listen, I understand I should have thought it through before I did it, but it was a rash decision. It was a last-ditch effort to get the thing to leave me alone. I’ve tried getting a priest to break the deal and expel the thing, but she said it was too powerful. She left before she could even finish the incantation. I’m at a loss.” Darcy explained. The line was so quiet it was hard to tell if Odin was still there, “Hello?” 

“Darcy,” He began, his tone rather austere, “I love you. I want you to be safe, but unfortunately, you’re stuck with the deal you’ve made. There’s no way out of this one.” 

“Well, surely you’ve made similar mistakes before? There has to be something I can do.” She was becoming more desperate by the second.

“I’m afraid not.” A hint of sympathy flickered between her father’s words.

Silence fell between them for a moment before Darcy spoke, “Don’t tell mom, yet.” She was aware that she made a mistake, and she had done everything in her power to fix it. At this point, Darcy couldn’t bear a lecture from her mother. 

“I’ll do my best, but you know how your mother is. She knows when information is being hidden from her.” He let out a chuckle in hopes of lightening the mood. 

“I know.” Darcy returned the chuckle, however, there was a weight upon her chest that was unshakable. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Be careful, and don’t make rash decisions anymore.”

“Deal.” Darcy acceded.


	4. Owls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Count: 2,578  
> Rating: T  
> Warnings: None
> 
> Summary: After an extremely vivid nightmare, Darcy receives a strange letter with a proposition to help her with her current situation. Darcy makes a choice against her mother’s better judgment in hopes things will be fixed in sure time.

The forest was made up of some of the brightest greens Darcy had ever seen. The trees swayed to and fro with the breeze. Throughout the foliage, there were small, twinkling lights. They looked as though the stars had fallen from the heavens. However, upon inspection, they were sentient beings no larger than two inches. As Darcy got closer she realized they were fairies. 

Darcy walked along with the brush crunching beneath her bare feet. She took in the sight of the scenery before her. She could hear the faint trickling of a stream nearby but out of sight. The young witch lifted her gaze, and in the distance, she saw a castle standing tall upon a hill looming over the forest. Darcy stopped in her tracks, closed her eyes, and took in a deep breath of fresh air. The environment was well beyond ethereal; it was heavenly. She was at peace for the first time in a long time. 

A rustling from behind shook Darcy out of her trance. She quickly faced the direction from which the noise came, and she saw a unicorn galloping away in a state of distress. Before Darcy could chalk the behavior up to the animal being wild, there was a blinding flash of white light. With a yelp, Darcy quickly shielded her eyes with her arms. When Darcy looked upon the forest again, it was no longer the magical place it once was. It was now barren, and what foliage remained in place was left dead. The bright greens had all faded to brown, and the serene energy that once lived had been replaced with fear. Despite everything inside telling her not to go on, Darcy continued the path she had been walking. Every few steps Darcy would scan the surrounding area to make sure that everything seemed to be in place. 

Darcy walked a few steps farther before another rustling sound prompted her to turn on her heel. Upon facing the direction the sound came from, she saw a revolting creature. It was wearing a long, dark green robe. For the most part, it had a humanoid appearance. However, its skin was made up of varying hues of gray. Atop the creature’s body was a bald head with two slits where a nose should have been. 

“Come to me.” A familiar high-pitched, raspy voice escaped from the mouth of the creature.

“Who are you?” Darcy demanded, narrowing her eyes. 

“Surely you would remember those you make blood deals with.” This creature was condescending. Darcy simply turned the opposite direction and began walking away. She was sure that sooner or later she would stumble upon the vibrant life that once occupied the forest. 

“Immobulus!” The creature shouted after Darcy. Upon hearing the word that was uttered, Darcy stood frozen in her tracks. Regardless of how much effort she put into it, she was unable to move. “A futile attempt, wouldn’t you agree?” 

“Come off it, would ya?” There was a short silence before the sound of footsteps grew nearer to the young witch. Before Darcy could utter another word she was face to face with the disgusting being.

A mere inch away from Darcy’s face the creature shouted, “Listen to me!” Darcy remained still. Not even a flinch could have been detected. Though fear was pulsing through her veins, she refused to show any sign of it. 

“Give me one reason I should listen to a god damn demon.” Her voice was emitted in a low growl. However, this creature only found amusement in Darcy’s efforts to come across as hard. 

After a loud chuckle, the creature continued, “Oh dear, I suppose mummy and daddy never told you the truth about your powers,” A strange feeling overcame Darcy, one she had never experienced before. The healing wound on the palm of her hand began to prickle with a pins and needles sensation, and as the creature continued to speak the prickling became a searing pain. “They kept them hidden from you I suppose,” A grimace spread itself across Darcy’s face. “They’re sorry excuses for parents if you ask me.” 

“I didn’t ask,” Darcy grunted through the pain. 

“You made a deal, and you are going to be held to it!” The creature snapped. “First order of business,” He began, but Darcy interrupted.

“I don’t fucking think so.” 

“Shut it, Invidia!” The creature spat as pulled out a wand and pressed the tip to Darcy’s chest in one swift motion.

Despite the searing pain in her hand, Darcy continued to press her luck, “What are you gonna do, hex me to death?” A snort chased after the sarcastically spoken words. She could see the rage building up inside the creature's dark green eyes, but refused to acknowledge it. The creature’s eyes bored into hers, and he tapped his wand on her chest repeatedly.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Darcy groggily raised her head from her desk. She had fallen asleep while reading up on breaking deals with evil spirits. It was now very early morning, the sun was only just peeking above the horizon. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Her brow furrowed as she noticed the tapping sound. Upon looking around for the source, her eyes widened at the scene before her. There was a large, tawny-colored owl perched outside her bedroom window located just above her desk. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The owl cocked it’s head to the side as if to tell her to open the window. Darcy reached up, unlocked the window, and opened it. The owl fluttered down to her desk and landed on top of the book she had been reading the night before, Demonology for the Dark Witch. 

“What in the world?” Darcy mumbled as she noticed there was a ribbon tied around the owl’s leg, and attached the ribbon was a rolled piece of parchment. She slowly reached out to the owl, expecting it to flutter away. To her surprise, the owl remained still while she untied the parchment from its leg, and it remained sat on her desk as she read it. 

Dear Darcy Invidia,  
It has been brought to my attention that your current situation is rather peculiar. I believe that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry can aid you in your endeavor to break the unfortunate deal you have made.  
Please reply by tying a letter to the owl. Simply direct it back to the school.  
Yours Sincerely,  
Albus Dumbledore  
(Head Master)  
This had to be some kind of prank, but from who? Regardless if it were a prank or not, Darcy was well beyond desperate to break the deal she had made. Without giving it a second thought, she began to write a response.

Dear Albus Dumbledore,  
I am intrigued by your offer. This is the first I’ve heard of this school. I must be honest, it doesn’t sound entirely real. However, if there’s any chance of clearing myself from the deal I’ve made I would hope that your letter is a sign that there is hope.  
As I haven’t heard of your school, and I haven’t found any information in any books, could you tell me a little more about Hogwarts?  
Sincerely,  
Darcy Invidia  
She still had a slew of questions about this school, so instead of waiting for another letter, she rang the only people she thought might have answers: her parents.

“Darcy! It’s so nice to hear from you. Your father says you’re settling in nicely.” Lilith, Darcy’s mother answered the call. 

“I have.” Darcy paused, “I’m sure he’s told you about my current situation?”

Her mother sighed, “He has. I’m afraid there’s no really anything we can do to help. I’m sure he told you that there just isn’t a way out of a blood deal.” 

“I know. That’s actually not why I’m calling. You won’t believe the letter I received today.” Darcy began.

“A letter? From who?” Her mother asked.

“I’m not quite sure who the sender is, I’m not familiar with the name. Get this though, an owl delivered it! How absurd is that?” A chuckle found its way through Darcy’s lips.

“I’m sorry, an owl?” Her mother’s tone quickly became serious and drenched with concern.

“I know it sounds crazy, mom. I think it has to be some sort of joke. It was signed ‘Albus Dumbledore.’ Surely that’s not a real name.” Darcy left no time for her mother to interrupt, “Anyway, he talks about this school for wizards and witches, and he said it could help me with the situation I’m in.” 

“Darcy, I need you to listen to me.” The tension in her voice was palpable, “You cannot attend that school. It’s far too dangerous. If you think that your life as a witch now has caused trouble, Hogwarts will surely cause more.” 

“Wait a minute, this is a real place?” Darcy asked. Before her mother could answer, she continued, “If it’s a real place and they can help me out why shouldn't I go?” 

A sigh came from the other end of the line, “I suppose you can do as you please at this point in your life. I just don’t understand why they’re reaching out to you all of a sudden. I was sure we had made it clear to them that you were not going to attend.” 

“They’ve reached out before?” 

“Yes, when you turned eleven. That’s the age that young witches and wizards begin at Hogwarts. We made it very clear that you would not be attending. We didn’t want you to get involved with the dark arts.” Her mother explained. 

“I sent a return letter asking more about the school, but maybe you could tell me instead?” Darcy was practically starving for more information. 

“I don’t know, Darcy. It may be better for it to come from Dumbledore. Just know that if you decide to go to Hogwarts you’re going to have a bad reputation due to your last name.” Another sigh came from her mother, “You come from a long line of dark witches and wizards.” 

“I can’t say that I’m surprised about that.” Darcy proceeded with another question, “Since this is a real place, and they usually accept students when they’re children, what would I be doing there as an adult?” 

“Perhaps Dumbledore will have you taking private lessons, or he may have you shadowing some of the professors so that you can learn during their classes. I’m not sure, Darcy.” Her mother seemed genuinely confused about the invitation from Dumbledore.

Before Darcy could utter another question that her mother likely didn’t have an answer to, the same owl as before swooped in through her open window with another roll of parchment tied to its leg. 

“The owl just came back with another letter.” Darcy cradled the phone between her jaw and shoulder as she untied the letter, and she read aloud, “Dear Darcy Invidia, I am ecstatic that you have returned an owl. Hogwarts is a school where skilled professors teach young witches and wizards about their powers and how to hone and perfect them. In most cases, a student would begin their first year at Hogwarts at the age of eleven. However, your situation is rather dire. 

I understand that you come from a very long line of powerful witches and wizards. You have very strong powers within yourself. By attending Hogwarts you will learn the necessary skills and practices to break the deal you have agreed to.

I am sure you are wondering what your attendance will consist of. I have decided that if you accept my invitation you will be shadowing the professors to receive your education. I don’t see it fit to have you sit among children in the classroom setting. 

I do hope you are considering attendance!

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

(Head Master).”

“Even though I advise against it, I think it may be in your best interest to go.” Her mother was hesitant to admit such a truth, but she knew her daughter needed the support now more than ever.

“Okay.” A sigh of relief came from Darcy, “I have some questions.”

“Just as I expected. Go ahead, dear.” 

“This school teaches real magic?” The first question made its way into the conversation.

“Yes. I want you to discover some things on your own, but you won’t be learning anything about conjuring with spirit boards. In fact, what magic you consider yourself knowledgeable about will serve almost no purpose at Hogwarts.” Her mother quickly became an open book, offering the answers Darcy had been craving. 

“How do you know so much about it? Did you attend when you were younger?” Curiosity was eating Darcy alive.

“I did. That’s where your father and I met. We were in the same house, and we shared most of our classes together.” 

“Same house? What do you mean?” 

“At Hogwarts, there are houses that students are separated into based on who they are as a person; Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin which was mine and your father’s house. I have no doubt that you, too, are Slytherin, but I’ll leave that to the sorting hat.” With her mother’s answer, more questions bubbled within Darcy.

“What the hell is a sorting hat?” None of this seemed real, it was unfathomable to Darcy.

“You will find out in due time. As I said, I want some things to be a surprise.” Her mother stated.

“Fair enough.” Darcy said, “I think I’m going to attend this school.”

“I think you’re making the right choice. If that’s your decision, then I believe you have a letter to send to Dumbledore.” Her mother stated, a hint of a smirk was evident. Though she had said she advised against it, Darcy couldn’t help but think her mother was excited about this new chapter. 

“I will. I’m gonna let you go, so I can do just that.” Excitement began to swell within Darcy for the first time in a very long time. 

“Should I let your father know about your plans?” Her mother asked.

“Please do. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” With that, her mother ended the call. 

Darcy set the phone off to the side of her desk before rereading the letter she was about to reply to. Awaiting its next delivery, the owl sat on the desk with its eyes fixed on Darcy. The girl retrieved another piece of paper and began to write out her response.

Dear Albus Dumbledore,

After some consideration, I have decided to accept your invitation. I look forward to attending Hogwarts. Do let me know what steps I need to take next.

Warm regards,  
Darcy Invidia

She tied the parchment to the owl’s leg once again and then sent the bird back from which it came. Darcy sat in wait. The only sound coming from the apartment was the She was itching with anticipation for the headmaster’s return letter. However, when the owl didn’t return as promptly as it had previously, Darcy began to grow impatient. 

As if the universe had considered her impatience, a knock came from the front door of Darcy’s flat. Upon opening the door was a sight that was not expected. An older man was sporting long, white hair with a beard to match. His attire was nothing short of eccentric. Purple robes with silver patterns were not necessarily what was “in” at the moment. He wore half-moon glasses and a warm smile. 

“May I come in, Darcy?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments / constructive criticism is welcome! Thank you for reading!


End file.
